Life and Times of Patroclus
by MikiNare
Summary: From when Patroclus first meets Achilles. How they grew to be so close and what happened some years before Troy.
1. Achilles

Hey hey! Don't really know where this story is going at all! Any ideas, please let me know! I haven't read the Iliad yet….I know - bad! I'm going to read it soon. So, basically this fanfic is based on the movie. Sorry, if that annoys anyone. I hope you like the first chapter. Hate it or love it? Please tell me what you think, cause all comments will improve my writing! Cheers big-ears!

**Chapter One – Achilles**

"Come, little one." A slave woman guided the sobbing fifteen year old up from the corner he had deposited himself in, into a chariot pulled by two sturdy copper brown horses. Steering them was an old neighbour of the recently deceased couple. She ran a hand down his dirty blonde hair making soothing, nonsense noises as he sat down on the hard wood of the chariot. He crumbled in on himself with grief, wrapping his skinny arms round his slender body, dropping his head to his knees. With a call and whip from the reins, the horses began an erythematic trot down the dry, dusty road.

'Why?' The boy thumped his legs and screamed over and over in his head. Why had his parents been chosen to visit the Underworld? Why had the Gods allowed it? Why had they left him? Left him alone. Both his parents had been brutally murdered not eight hours ago and here he was their only son being swept away to be placed under the protection of his never-before-seen cousin Achilles and his wise goddess mother, Thetis.

All he wanted was revenge. He wanted to avenge his well-respected, honest father and beautiful mother. Instead, he had fought the family friends who had restrained his struggles for more death and finally fainted into a slave's arms. Pathetic. He had been violently sick twice after watching the bodies of his parents being burned on the funeral pyres.

For most of his life he had prayed to the Gods to bless him with the opportunity to meet his hero, Achilles, and now they had granted his wish at the expense of his parents. He was to be placed in the care of the only family he knew. He had never met them in the flesh, but knew only of them from stories from his father.

Fresh tears coated his green eyes. How he would miss his mother's soft kisses at night and his father's wise words. The drops of moisture slide down his soft pale cheeks. He felt a hand being placed between his shoulder blades and he shrugged it off angrily with a low growl escaping his throat. He wiped his face furiously with his palms. Couldn't they see he just wanted to be left alone? He didn't want comfort; he wanted the man who had killed his mother and father to be screaming in pain by his hands.

"Patroclus, your cousin approaches."

The horses towing the chariot were slowed to a halt and immediately began chewing at the bit placed in their mouths.

Patroclus raised his head quickly and stared, mesmerised as Achilles rode towards him. He was donned in grey robes and sat upon a deep, midnight black stallion with wild red eyes. The breath left his body at the sight of this.

"So, this is my cousin Patroclus." Achilles acknowledged with a smile that warmed his eyes. His mother had explained of the boy's parents' murder and how she had decided to raise the boy with the help from her son. Achilles' eyes were filled with compassion as he noticed the glistening tear tracks on his cousin's face.

"Achilles. The Greatest Warrior. My Lord." Patroclus whispered, blinking rapidly. He leaped from the chariot and fell to one knee. The man watched in amusement and slid gracefully from his horse, landing in front of his young cousin.

The fifteen year old stared at the sandy ground and swallowed hard aware of being under Achilles' scrutiny. He was in the presence of this Great Warrior. Oh Gods, help me!

Suddenly, a pair of hands were around his waist and he was lifted off the ground and swung up onto the saddle of Achilles' own horse. Achilles bid a farewell to the slave woman and pulled himself onto the saddle behind Patroclus. He embraced an arm round his cousin's chest and pressed him back to lean on his own strong solid torso. He bent to whisper into the boy's ear.

"Rest, child. It's a long way home."

"Home?" Patroclus questioned, lifting away from the body.

"Home." Achilles reinforced hugging him close again. "Now rest or I'll make you walk."

Patroclus looked up startled, but saw the faint flicker of a smile on his cousin's lips and for a brief moment allowed himself his very own small smile. He collapsed against the supporting chest and let out a sigh. His head fell to the side, snuggled into Achilles' shoulder and he watched exhausted as they galloped out of the city.

Before his eyes shut he allowed himself one last long look at his cousin, his hero and his closest family member. He had never met the man in person before, but an instant bond had been built between them just from their first contact. They were family after all and to Greeks, family was everything. Achilles was feared and respected for his ability to slay and slaughter, but deep inside Patroclus he knew Achilles would be his saviour from the despair which had engraved itself into his heart.


	2. Thetis

Thank you for reviewing! I still have no idea where to go with this story. Sob. Righto, on with Chapter 2. Let me know what you think!

**Chapter Two – Thetis**

Patroclus gasped and his whole body shuddered from its core. His eyes snapped open and he went rigid in fear as his mind swirled in a mist of confusion and disorientation. Before he had a chance to struggle and escape the horse he rode on, he felt a soft kiss being planted on his head.

"You awake from some terrible dream?" Achilles asked quietly, veering his horse to the left to gallop across some field filled with daisies and dandelions. The passing horse kicked up the dandelions and they scattered into the air like dancing fairies.

The boy twisted round as far as he could in the saddle with eyes wide as saucers and a gaping mouth. In a tidal wave the memories drowned any conscious thought and he once again felt that awful hollowness and numbing pain as his nightmare became reality and he realised his parents really were gone. He felt detached from his body somehow, his mind floated away deep into a black abyss.

Yet, there was Achilles' stare which drew him back and grounded him, pinning him under his gaze. Droplets of water silently overflowed in his emerald eyes and his breath was drawn in and released in shaky, laboured pants.

"Oh Gods." He sobbed and dropped his face into his two hands. Here he was crying in front of the man who he had worshipped since birth.

"Shh, Patroclus." Achilles lifted his cousin so both legs dangled, swinging at one side of his horse's neck and hugged him fiercely with one arm. He seemed to sense the teenager's discomfort.

"It is an honourable thing to grieve for those you have lost. There is no shame in it."

A hiccup or two later and Patroclus fought himself furiously to suppress the emotions. He peeked out from behind his long fingers and with an expression that could only be described as truly miserable he melted into Achilles' strong embrace, face nestled into his older cousin's neck.

"I miss them already and they haven't even been dead a day." He cried. "What will I be like in a week, a month!"

"It gets better in time."

"Really?" He whispered, shaken by his sadness. He pulled back and searched Achilles' eyes for some truth in his words. His action was rewarded by one of those smiles. It seemed to slow his broken, pounding heart and evaporate the tears in his eyes. Patroclus' cheeks turned a glowing shade of pink as he dropped such an intimate gaze.

"I feel like I have known you all my life." He explained bearing his soul and fingering his own tunic shyly.

"I know the feeling. We will be great friends, you and me." Achilles promised. "I will teach you everything I know – which isn't much!" He laughed loudly and kicked his horse faster.

A giggle slipped passed Patroclus' grief and he looked back up into his cousin's face, thankful from the short release from his anguish. Achilles placed a hand on his cousin's cheek and touched his nose to the boy's. They were so alike in appearance that they really could pass as brothers. Achilles smiled at the thought. This boy had already sneaked passed his defences and found a special place in his heart. The Great Warrior now had a brother to fight for and protect and he felt a new sense of purpose in his life.

Another half a days riding and the sun was high in the sky and both young men could see the outskirts of Achilles home city. They hadn't spoke in a long while, Achilles occupied with his own thoughts and Patroclus busy taking in the scenery and fidgeting with the silky black mane of the beast that carried them.

The hooves began making sharp 'clip-clop' noises as the ground grew harder as they approached the centre of the town. People outside their homes smiled admirably and waved at Achilles, some even fell to one knee or at the very least dipped their heads in respect. It was such a surreal sensation that Patroclus couldn't help the grin that spread across his gentle features. The sun warmed his skin and he closed his eyes tilting his face to in the direction of the light to bathe in its comfort.

"Mother." Achilles greeted and dropped down from his horse before it had fully stopped.

"Achilles." She smiled and placed a hand on her son's cheek. The man reached up and plucked Patroclus from the saddle and stood him on his two feet with a hand on each shoulder.

"Ah, so this is my dear nephew. You are as handsome as your parents wrote in their letters. They were always so proud of you. You have your mother's eyes and your father's nose." She tapped it with her index finger, laughing softly.

Patroclus dipped his head from the affection and also to shield the sadness that wrapped itself round him. The woman sensed this as she was feeling grief herself and tilted up his chin so he was looking into her eyes. Then she offered him a necklace made of shells and pebbles she had collected from lakes.

"A gift from me, Patroclus."

He took it slowly from her outstretched hand and watched as the sun shone off it making wonderful colours dance across his face and arm.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." He went to drop to one knee, but Achilles raised him with a hand under each arm.

"We are family. None of this." He said with a teasing smirk. Patroclus nodded and hugged the necklace close.

"Thank you."

Thetis laughed and stroked his hair in a motherly gesture.

"Sweet boy. Now, go inside and wash before we all eat."

Patroclus gave his cousin one last grateful smile and ran inside the house.

"He has great pain you know. His eyes bear all the sorrow in his soul."

"I feel a connection to him. It's so strong."

"He is blood, Achilles."

Achilles stared at the door his cousin had just run through.

"Yes he is, mother." And with that, mother and son made their way inside to escape the afternoon heat and to welcome the newest member of their family with open arms.


	3. Finding Peace

Hey hey! Chapter 3. Thank you for all your kind reviews. Guess what? I have a plot! It's a small one, but at least I have one, right? Hehe. Enjoy!

**Chapter Three – Finding Peace**

After the family had eaten Patroclus could feel the full weight of the exhaustion surfacing. He hadn't had a proper sleep in twenty-four hours and the emotional turmoil had taken its toil on him. He sat with his legs crossed on the floor as Thetis and Achilles told many funny and adventurous stories. The boy's eyes kept sliding shut and his chin was bouncing off his breast bone. Achilles could see he wasn't listening anymore and stopped the tale in mid-sentence.

"That's when I decided to marry my mother here and we lived happily ever after." Achilles grinned as he noticed Patroclus trying to resist sleeping.

"That's such a nice story Achilles." Patroclus muttered, completely unaware of the content. Achilles and his mother shared an amused look and the young man pushed himself off his seat to stand.

"Come on, my little cousin let's get you to bed."

Patroclus forced his eyes wide and sat up straighter.

"No, no. I'm capable of staying up longer."

"Your little tired face begs to differ, child." Thetis smiled. "I've prepared a place to rest in Achilles' room. You'll need to share for now."

"I'm fine. I'm not even that tired." Patroclus yawned and Achilles laughed. He gave the teenager a sceptical look. Then he grabbed the boy and slung him over is shoulder.

"Put me down! Achilles!" Patroclus yelped and thumped his older cousin's back.

"Where would the fun be in that?"

"Thank the gods I never gave birth to another. You are cruel Achilles." Thetis chuckled.

"Patroclus can fill the role of a younger sibling." The young man explained and stalked out of the room.

"I order you to put me down a once. I'm not a baby!"

"Yes you are." He stated simply and then threw the boy onto a bed of furs. He groaned and glared up at Achilles.

"You are cruel." He growled.

"I'm a monster." The warrior grinned, hands on hips.

The moonlight streamed through the window and highlighted both young men. The humour died instantaneously. Silence grew stronger. Achilles cleared his throat and dropped to his knees in front of Patroclus.

"I'll be right outside. Try and get some sleep, child. Tomorrow will feel just a little better than today, I promise."

"It's the first time I've ever slept away from my house without them." He choked out. Hadn't he cried enough? Hadn't he been through enough pain?

"Shh, Patroclus. Just close your eyes and sleep."

The teenager turned on his side and curled into a ball gripping the soft fur in his hand. He closed his eyes like he had been told, but sleep didn't come. Nausea, heart ache and tears raked through his body and from underneath his eyelids the water droplets pushed their way to roll down his cheeks. He clutched the fur and pretended it was his father's winter coat or the soft cover of his parents' bed.

"Ma'ma." He whimpered. Please don't be dead. Please let this be some terrible nightmare. Please don't leave me alone. The air in his lungs felt like it was pushing up through his throat, but he could not release it. He felt a pain deep within himself. A longing for a limb that was no longer there, longing for purpose that had no need to be fulfilled.

"No…..Please…" He pleaded to the moon, to Artemis. He was grateful to Thetis and Achilles for occupying his thoughts and giving him reason to laugh, but then suddenly he was overcome with guilt. Here he was laughing and being distracted when his parents were stuck deep within the Underworld and their killer was still walking the land. Patroclus bit down on his lip till he felt a warm metallic taste on his tongue. He couldn't give way to the anger when his sorrow was still too intense. The time would come when he would avenge his parents' death.

"I miss you." He whispered to the night sky and then relinquished his hold on his pain and surrendered to the darkness.

Achilles stood in the doorway watching his cousin's hand cling tightly to the fur he lay on. Is heart was swollen with love and worry for the boy. He listened to the sad little whimpers and gasps of air as Patroclus tried desperately not to cry. He turned away from the grieving child and stepped outside to be embraced in a fresh night breeze. His jaw clenched and he cursed the gods bitterly. Picking up a bow and a collection of arrows he stormed off into the field that spread out for miles behind his home. The long grass tickled his ankles and insects hovered above flowers, their wings humming and slicing the silence. The man reached his usual spot and drew his arrow across the string. Pulling it taunt and feeling his arm muscles quiver he released it and watched it sail like a shooting star to stab its way into the bark of a tree one hundred feet away. He drew another, and fired it fast to line up perfectly with the other. He fired another and another until his arm ached and the bark from the tree fell in chunks to the ground below. Then he kicked the earth repeatedly in a burst of rage and remorse, sending up puffs of sand and dust.

"He's just a child." He groaned and sank to his knees deeply upset and unsettled. Then the fire and strength that shaped Achilles scorched through him and his warrior beliefs rose once more to fill his head with revenge. He would kill those that had endured this pain on his cousin. He swore to the gods that this would not be allowed to happen again. He would protect this child with every ounce of power he held within him and one day he would make those responsible for the death of his family pay by his hands. He was the Greatest Warrior to date and he knew his destiny was mapped out for him to become even more powerful and skilled. The arrogance that he knew maybe his downfall one day, quelled his need for revenge and assured him that their time would come when they would beg for mercy at his hands. And with that he picked up his bow and walked home with a new sense of peace in his heart. If only he could convince Patroclus to find that same peace.


	4. Clysonymus

According to Greek mythology when Patroclus was a young boy he accidentally killed his friend Clysonymus during an argument. So, I decided to borrow this character. He isn't really friends with Patroclus in my story, more like a close friend of his parents and best friend to Achilles. Sorry for screwing up what the Greeks wrote, but didn't the movie do that already? Hehe. Hope you like Chapter 4! Let me know what you think!

**Chapter Four – Clysonymus**

The next morning Patroclus awoke with a start and sat up quickly. He rubbed his eyes getting rid of the sleep and tiredness and stretched leisurely across the furs. He could hear voices coming from the other room and stood up smoothing out his tunic. Approaching the door he recognized the voice, but couldn't put a face to the noise. Then Achilles' voice took over the conversation and the men laughed heartily. Patroclus walked up to the two men who were smiling and snacking on red grapes. The smile faded from the stranger's face when the boy materialized in front of his eyes. Achilles turned round at his friend's unusual gaze.

"Patroclus. Did you sleep well?"

The teenager nodded, but didn't take his eyes off his cousin's friend. Their eyes were locked in battle. He knew this man. He had seen him dining with his father before when he was younger.

Achilles looked between the two and cleared his throat, placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"This is Clysonymus. He was good friends with your father."

"Meneotius was a good man. I'm sorry to hear he died."

"Murdered." Patroclus almost growled. He couldn't quite place the uneasy feeling that circled round his stomach. His whole body shuddered. Clysonymus nodded apologetically and looked away at the younger man's heated glare. He picked a grape and chewed it noisily. Achilles frowned, mystified at his cousin's peculiar behavior. Maybe he wasn't a morning person. He opened his mouth to make a joke about teenagers and early mornings, but before he could, his cousin had spoken.

"I will go wash." Patroclus turned slowly, giving Achilles a quick glance and returned to the bedroom leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.

"He is missing them horribly." Achilles explained quietly. "He was very close with his parents my mother tells me."

"It is a sin that a boy so young should endure such a loss." Clysonymus stated lowly and wetted his lips with his tongue.

The men were left thinking over each of their own loses until Achilles snapped out of his gaze.

"Come. Let's go rid ourselves of these upsetting thoughts." Achilles grabbed a sword and grinned mischievously.

"I shall take it easy on you this time, Clysonymus."

"Ah, my friend you just got lucky last time."

Achilles snorted rudely and held the blade at his friend's throat. Clysonymus didn't even flinch.

"You could never cut such a fine head from an even finer body."

"I'm surprised such a scrawny frame could carry such a massive head." Achilles retorted removing the blade. Clysonymus laughed, shaking his head and went to saddle his horse.

Patroclus sat down heavily. Adrenaline pumped through his body and he opened his palms to find his short finger nails had pinched the tender skin white. Why was he so consumed in anger when he thought of his father's friend? He just made himself confused and frustrated and through himself back on the fur with an exasperated sigh.

"I am going to the field to spar with Clysonymus for a little while. Mother is down at the lake. She'll probably be there all day. Would you like to come watch me humiliate the idiot?" Achilles raised his eye-brows with a smirk. Patroclus stared back at him expressionless.

"I will come watch you in a while."

"As you wish, cousin, but come soon, Clysonymus is easily defeated." He laughed and dashed out. Patroclus lifted himself on to two elbows and rolled off the bed to his feet. He grabbed a cloth that was lying in a tub of warm water and scrubbed his face. Pulling off his tunic he squeezed the cloth to let the excess water run down his back. He grabbed some soap and rubbed it between his hands and ran them over his upper body. After rinsing himself he stepped out the back and let himself dry in the morning sun. He thought about his cousin fighting Clysonymus. His father had taught him how to use a bow and arrow when he was twelve, but he had never been in a situation to use such a weapon and he couldn't even remember picking up a sword before.

As the water droplets evaporated off his skin he thought about just how useless he really was. He had been out with friends when his parents had been stabbed and left to bleed to death, but really if his own father couldn't defend himself what could he have done? Shoot blunt arrows at them? He scuffed the ground, ashamed of his lack of skill with any kind of weapon. What kind of man would he turn out to be if he couldn't defend his family and fight for his country? In the distance he could see the quick, talented movements of his cousin as he slammed his sword down on Clysonymus' shield. He watched him kick out his legs and hold the sword pointed to the man's throat. Then Achilles helped him to his feet and they began again, dancing round rocks and trees, both trying to outsmart and surprise each other.

Folding his arms across his chest Patroclus decided he wasn't going to feel sorry for himself any longer. He had cried enough. Now it was time to regain his family's honor and take revenge. He didn't want to watch Achilles fight, he wanted to learn. He wanted to learn how to throw a spear and pierce a man's head from two hundred yards, he wanted to learn how to behead the enemy and crack their shields with one fatal blow. He would learn all that and more and then one day he really would have the blood of his parents' murderer on his hands and reclaim his self-worth and parents' love and belief.


	5. Geryon

I totally need to thank Halo for this. She resurrected this story. I've found my inspiration for it again. Lol. Hope it's good. What do you think?

**Chapter Five – Geryon**

The long grass tickled Patroclus' shins as he made his way across the field to the two sparring men. Curses and grunt passed from the lips of Clysonymus whose face was burning red and sweat poured from beneath his hair. Achilles parried a blow from his attacker's sword and puckered his lips to form a kiss, taunting his opponent.

"Curse you." Clysonymus growled, frustrated at being outsmarted and over-powered time and time again. In one smooth sweeping motion, the Great Warrior had dodged an attack and swept Clysonymus' feet from underneath him. The man's behind felt the ground once again. Achilles angled his blade to the man's throat as his chest rose and fell.

"Surrender?"

Patroclus eyes widened at the lethal position his cousin held the man in and suddenly his palms were clammy in anticipation as he screamed over and over in his head, 'Kill him, kill him!'. His heart pounded and blood thundered through his ears as the moments passed by.

"Curse you, Achilles." Clysonymus laughed at last, flopping down on his back and releasing his sword. Patroclus snapped out of his bloody reverie and felt a moment of disorientation before gathering his thoughts and realising what he had been wishing for. He wanted this man dead? He wanted his cousin to sink the sharp, shiny blade into the vulnerable exposure of Clysonymus' throat? What was he thinking? He shuddered at the thought and felt a wave of fear and confusion wash away his senses. Why did this man grip him in a hold of rage? He shook his head, dislodging the unpleasant feelings.

"Ah, my dear cousin, finally joined us I see." Achilles smiled and helped Clysonymus to his feet. He dusted himself off and faced Patroclus, a thin line of pursed lips replaced his friendly smile. Patroclus just stared deep into his eyes until Achilles coughed quietly. Like having their strings pulled by the gods, both jumped back, being torn from their silent battle. Clysonymus turned to face his friend and slapped his shoulder.

"I must go into the city and finish off some business." Clysonymus explained. He turned at once and muttered a goodbye to Patroclus before jogging back to his horse tied at Thetis' house.

"I was watching you fight." Patroclus explained watching Achilles cut the grass with his blade.

"Were you now?" Achilles asked with an amused smile. He knew what was coming next.

"Will you teach me? Please? My father taught me how to use a bow, but I've never had any practice with a real sword."

"Why do you want to be able to fight?" Achilles questioned, looking along his blade to check its straightness.

Patroclus opened his mouth to tell him about his plan of slaying the people who were involved with his parents' death, but he knew his cousin would refuse. He had overheard Thetis, his aunt, warning Achilles not to speak of revenge to Patroclus for his parents' murder as she feared it would lead to more trouble and more blood being spilled and she didn't want the boy to witness such atrocity. Achilles wanted to avenge his own family's deaths, but Thetis had been adamant that the matter was not to be discussed in front of Patroclus. He glanced to the ground and picked up a stray branch, throwing it from hand to hand.

"I want to learn so I can fight for you and Greece." He lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. He did want to learn to fight so when it came time to ride off to war he would be amongst the finest warriors.

"Very well." Achilles agreed and handed Patroclus the sword. Patroclus gripped it with two hands, but as his cousin removed his own hold, the boy realised just how heavy it was. The point fell to the ground and Patroclus looked at it in horror.

"It's too heavy." He panted. Achilles laughed and flexed his bicep, arm bulging with muscle. He then grabbed Patroclus arm and his fingers could grip all the way round it. He laughed heartedly. The boy dropped the sword and smirked bending down to grab his cousin's ankle and send the man crashing to the ground.

Achilles sat shocked on the grass, blinking up at the teenager. Patroclus, for a second feared for his life, but then started giggling and held a hand to his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried to conceal his laugh. Achilles watched the boy for a moment, seeing him smile for the first time and then broke into laughter too. It died in his throat as he realised this fifteen year old was the first person ever to have beaten him in a fight. Nobody had ever managed to knock Achilles off his feet. Patroclus smile faded at his cousin's straight face.

"You little monster! I'm going to get you back for that!" Hollered Achilles, grinning and jumping to his feet. Patroclus yelped and dashed off through the field.

"The Great Warrior knocked down by his own cousin - nearly half his age!" Taunted Patroclus as he yelled over his shoulder.

"Come back here!"

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Clysonymus reached the city and climbed down from his horse. He glanced behind him to make sure he wasn't followed and slipped under a long piece of cloth hanging in a doorway into a small dark house.

"Geryon?" Clysonymus called nervously and stepped slowly into the centre of the room.

"I am here." The tone was low and dangerous and Clysonymus swallowed. He approached a chair and dipped his head in respect. He stared at the man in front of him until he realised he was being spoken to. The sight of Geryon still shocked Clysonymus to his core. He had a dark complexion, tanned from years in the sun. His hair was short and black with just a tinge of grey seeping in at the sides. His ears were pointy and a deep, ugly scar slid its way down over one closed eyes and over a cheek. His physical prowess was impressive and very intimidating. Altogether he wasn't a man you wanted to associate with and foolishly Clysonymus had. He had been corrupted with promises of wealth and fortune in return for some bloody tasks.

"I heard you successfully killed that fool Menoetius and his equally useless pregnant wife."

Clysonymus bowed slightly.

"Yes. It was easy. They trusted me into their home. They even offered me something to eat for my travels."

Geryon laughed, slamming a meaty fist on the table.

"Fools!" He crowed again. "I assume you killed all their offspring and burned their house?"

"Well, you see, Geryon, things became complicated and well…."

"Clysonymus I will rip you limb from limb if you do not tell me what happened right now."

"The boy, their only child was away that night and I couldn't burn the house as people had heard the idiot woman screaming when I killed her husband and came rushing in through the door. I just had time to stick a blade to her throat and then I had to get away from there as quickly as possible."

"There is still a bloodline of Menoetius alive?" Geryon growled.

"Yes, Geryon." Geryon grabbed his sword.

"But! But I know where the boy is. I know where Patroclus lives now."

"You do?"

"Yes. He is living with Achilles – his cousin."

Geryon was silent and clasped his hands in front of him resting them in his lap.

"You often speak to Achilles do you not?"

"I do."

"In fact you told me you were visiting him today."

"I did."

"Did you not see the boy there?"

"Yes, but Geryon….."

With a roar, Geryon leaped from the chair and grabbed Clysonymus by the throat.

"Did I not explain to you in great detail about the prophecy that any man who possessed the blood of Menoetius would be the downfall of me and my fortune? Did I not pay you to make sure that this bloodline was ended?" He spat.

"Yes, Geryon."

"Then see to it. I want that boy dead. I want you to bring me his blood on your sword and then I will finally be able to sleep nights. Is that clear, Clysonymus?"

"I will see to it. Patroclus will be slain by my sword. I promise."

**Author's Note**: Oooooooh, bad Clysonymus! Did you like? Did you hate? Let me know! I'm a review addict! XD


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